Carry on Dreaming
by Out of Context
Summary: PT: "One day, just as sure as you're breathing, I'll see you with your heart bleeding"


_Author's Note: This short song fiction is in honor of the anniversary of three things very near to me, and I really hope you enjoy it. This is the five year anniversary of my mother's death, celebrated a mere ten days ago. It is the seven month anniversary since my boyfriend and I began dating, today. And in nine more days, it will be the sixteenth anniversary of my birth. I really hope you review and let me know what you think of it's rather short piddlieness, especially in light of all the events it is commemorating. _

**Carry on Dreaming**

**_Disclaimer: Lyrics to Carry on Dreaming are the property of Balance of Power: When the _****_World_********_Falls_****_ Down (1997), and I have no ownership in them. They are merely borrowed to enhance and provide structure for the following story._**

**_PG for mild language and dark themes_**

She watched the two before her, the bile rising quickly in the back of her throat. His strong arms were wrapped around her tiny waist, seeming to fit the nook perfectly, their bodies melding together in their emotion. Her eyes never strayed from the pair, their love unable to quench her smoldering hatred. 

She knew she was in love with him. She had known it from the start. And she knew he would never love her. That too, she had known from the start. Her knowledge couldn't stop the sickening rate at which her stomach did somersaults, dancing for all the world as if it were at a ball, while she stood there, just watching, her heart being ripped out of her chest. 

She swallowed, trying to rid herself of the acid pooling in her mouth from her stomach's convulsions, but it wouldn't go away. With each new show of their affections for each other, a new wave of nausea hit her. The world swam before her eyes.

She turned, her black hair sliding gracefully down her back, and walked from the hallway leading to the room out of the house and into the yard. Tears welled in the ebony pools framed elegantly by long black lashes.

The bile burned at the back of her throat, and the salty tears stung the back of her eyes. If she couldn't have him, she would have no one else.

**-All or nothing seems to be-**

**-becoming painfully clear.-**

**-All of a sudden it came to me,-**

**-the bitter taste won't disappear.-**

He was always in love with her, she told herself over and over again, yet still she refused to believe it, to recognize the truth as it smacked her hard in the face, forcing upon her that which she had ignored for so long. Marron, in all her glowing perfection. The Bitch. It was obvious that she would catch the eye of the heart-stopping heir of the most prestigious company on Chik-yuu and the heir to the throne of the Saiya-jins, Trunks Breifs himself. Even his name caused her heart to skip a beat.

But Panny? No. No one would ever think she was worthy of such a man, and he would never love her. Yet, she had loved him from the start. Who couldn't?

She leaned her head back against the tree she had named after her grandfather, when he left so long ago, closing her eyes and resting against it, trying to clench out the pain. A few deep breaths later and she was calm again, in control, ready to face whatever the world threw at her. Except… Except that. 

The pain hit again, and her eyes filled, the soft liquid sliding down her unguarded cheeks. She pulled her knees to her and covered her face with her hands, her eyes tightly shut behind the fleshy shield. 

Just a few more deep breaths, Panny, just a few more, and you'll be all right, she told herself, over and over again, repeating the litany with a violent fervor.

Maybe she couldn't take it. 

Maybe she wouldn't be all right. 

Her mind slowed as she drifted to sleep, the stress of the day too much for her to handle.

**-You're the last and the only,-**

**-And you're down for the last time.-**

**-Can you take it?-**

**-Cold hard facts make you tired and lonely.-**

**-Close your eyes and your heart beats slowly.-**

She woke suddenly, the sun low in the sky, and turned, scribing two simple lines into the tree behind her, leaving them as a message to her beloved, hoping that if he found them, he would recognize them as a message to him. She hoped he would suffer.

**-If the real thing hurts you better carry on dreaming.-**

**-There's nothing wrong with your own sweet song, believe me.-**

**-If the real thing hurts you better carry on dreaming. -**

**-It won't take long 'til the real thing comes again. -**

"I'm sorry, Marron. I just don't love you. What else do you want me to say?"

"Just tell me why, please," she pleaded, pulling his hands to her breast endearingly. 

"I… I… " It was so hard for him to admit. Hell. He had just barely admitted it to himself. 

"Just say it. Please. It's all I ask."

"I love Pan." He blurted. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to hurt –"  
  


Marron cut him off with a finger to his lips. "Can I have just one more favor then?"

"What is it?"

"Just promise me, yes or no. If it is too vulgar an idea, I'll understand, and you won't have to do it. I promise."

"Alright. Anything."

"Just kiss me once, as if you loved me, and I promise I won't bother you again."

He pulled her to him, and at this point in time, Pan witnessed their actions, had her heart torn out, and ran from the scene, not staying to see the rest. That one action would make two people pay dearly. 

Marron wished the day could be erased, that she could start over, that that sorry was never said, and this entire conversation was wiped from existence. She wished he had said he loved her instead. 

And Trunks, he was indeed sorry. Trunks returned to his office and resumed the last bit of work for the day, hurrying to finish it before he had to stay after hours and he tried, also, to forget Marron's confession. He thought only of Pan and telling her the truth of how he felt. 

**-Sorry seems the hardest word after all is said and done. -**

**-Imagine all you overheard could be erased forever gone. -**

**-Will you ever find heaven? -**

**-Will it all turn around? -**

**-Can you make it? -**

Trunks' eyes shot up from his paperwork. A major power had dropped from his senses and that foreshadowed danger. He whisked out from behind the desk, slipping his shoes back on that were discarded messily underneath it. He didn't worry about the dress jacket or tie that he had shed earlier that day, but instead he opened the large glass panes of the window and shot out in to the evening sky, the sun staining the clouds crimson in its descent, foreshadowing yet another dangerous crime committed. 

He didn't think of that though, but just of where the power dropped from, and who it was. Was it Goten? No… Goten was at his apartment. Gohan? No… He was home, also. His father? No… As he went through the list of warriors, one by one, each with a recognizable signature was ruled out, a signature in each of their homes as it should be at this time of day. Finally, his list coming to an end, he reached little Panny-chan.

He searched high and low for a signature that could possibly be hers, but to his dismay, he was unable to locate it. She was missing. 

He tried to think of where she could be, why no one else seemed to have noticed, and why it would have dropped so suddenly out of existence. 

The best place to think, he said to himself, would be Goku's tree. He smiled grimly at the irony. Flying out of West Capitol City, he soon reached the small glen that it was centered in and lowered himself to its base to think. What met him was a grisly sight.

Her pale skin lay swimming in a pool of scarlet, sharply contrasting each other in the pale light. The sun was setting fast. Her hair had long ago matted into a knotted mess, splayed haphazardly on the soaked ground. Her eyes stared at her wrist, glazed over in cold death. His own shockingly blue eyes followed her gaze to the cause of all the spilled rubies.

He sat down next to her, pulling her head into his lap, cradling the broken creature. He rocked back and forth slowly, his heart torn out. How could he have lost such a precious treasure? 

Inscribed upon the tree above the young pair was a simple message, two lines long. The one filled with life would never live to see the message carved by the one cold with the frigid hands of death.

**-One day just as sure as you're breathing, -**

**-I'll see you with your heart bleeding. -**

Trunks picked up the knife that had been used to sliver her delicate skin, and plunged it deep into his breast, breaking the chest cavity instantly and shoving the sharp blade deep into his heart. 

He laid his head back against the tree, in the same spot she had lain her head before unknown to him. Her head still lay cradled in his lap as he absently stroked the matted black locks, his own blood pouring down on to her and mixing in with her own, entwining the two. As the blood emptied from his body, he entered a dreamlike state, unable to stay awake any longer. 

It wouldn't have mattered. His mind had gone numb the moment he found her.

**-If the real thing hurts you better carry on dreaming. -**

**-There's nothing wrong with your own sweet song, believe me. -**

**-If the real thing hurts you better carry on dreaming. -**

**-It won't take long 'til the real thing comes again. -**

Marron stood at the foot of the two graves, laying next to one another as she had found the young pair, and a single tombstone marked their grave. She had read the message on the tree, and she had seen Trunks' wounds. She figured the obvious. He had read it and murdered himself in the way Pan had prescribed him to do. It never occurred to her that it was all a giant coincidence. 

Fate has a funny way of turning things out. 

And on their death marker, she had written a simple quote, infamous in its lines. 

**-"It's better to have loved and lost, -**

**-Than never to have loved at all. -**

**-It's better to die from love, -**

**-Than to have lived your life for gain."**** -**

That night, she walked home, climbing into her comfortable bed and laying beside her husband. He pulled her to him, with the same feeling of love that Trunks had faked that fateful day. She had never forgotten the feel of his touch against her skin, and never would, but she had moved on and learned to love another and live again. She closed her eyes, the pain still slightly stinging from his refusal of her love, and went to sleep, dreaming sweet dreams of nothing. 

**-If the real thing hurts you better carry on dreaming. -**

**-There's nothing wrong with your own sweet song, believe me. -**

**-If the real thing hurts you better carry on dreaming. -**

**-It won't take long 'til the real thing comes again. -**


End file.
